NIGHTMARE ▹ Natasha Romanoff

six.

Svetlana had been on jets before. So when Romanoff and Barton took her to one, calling it the 'quinjet', she wasn't surprised much. It was rather large with space inside to sit, so she slumped onto one of the chairs. She was tired, and her jaw was starting to ache from one of the harder hits she'd taken.

Readjusting her hands so that the metal wasn't rubbing into her skin as much, she looked up at the other occupants. Barton had gone off with one of the security guards and were beginning to take off. Romanoff, however, sat opposite Svetlana, watching her every move.

Svetlana smiled, "I know I'm nice to look at but you don't have to stare." Romanoff raised an eyebrow. "Would you mind taking these off. They're getting pretty heavy." Svetlana complained.

Romanoff crossed her arms and leaned back. "You pack a pretty hard punch Rostov. Wouldn't want you getting loose." The woman's bright red hair fell to her shoulders in loose curls, her eyes a startling green. Svetlana smiled.

"Why thank you. Not so bad yourself." Svetlana leaned towards her this time, scanning her face for any tells. "So tell me, why is a Russian fighter like you here?" A brief look of surprised passed Romanoff's face. Svetlana smirked. "Your fighting style. It's pretty obvious. Why are you here? Ex-KGB?" Svetlana enquired the last part in Russian. She knew Romanoff would understand. The style she fought in was taught specifically in Russian training agencies.

Romanoff narrowed her eyes. "Who I am, is none of your business Rostov." She said lowly. Svetlana grinned; if she was getting ticked off, that meant something. She leant back, satisfied that she at least knew something about what was going on now.

"We're landing." During their little glare-off, Barton had come up to them. He sat next to Romanoff, leaning to whisper something in her ear. Svetlana rolled her eyes at the secrecy.

The descent was fast, and the door at the end of the plane was opening in no time. At first glance, it looked like a regular airstrip, maybe military. But when they marched her forward, and she got a full view, she couldn't help but gasping in awe. An airstrip, hovering in the, well, the air. The drop over the side was so far below she could see only small ant like buildings. The sun was bright and warm on her face, the sky a vivid blue. The two agents smirked at her reaction. They led her through doors and a maze of hallways until they reached a large, hall like room.

It was filled with computers and people in uniforms. There was a table on a raised area of it, and a large window on one side. "This is who we are." Svetlana turned to see eyepatch man walking towards them once again. "S.H.I.E.L.D."